


Dirty Paws

by wynniethepooh



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Pokemon!AU, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynniethepooh/pseuds/wynniethepooh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CEOs SAY IF YOUR POKÉMON IS NOT EVOLVED, YOU’RE NOT GETTING A JOB<br/>The New York Times, August 10th, 2013</p>
<p>The current gossip in the workplace is the new statements by CEO of Trust Enterprises, David Hayner. The businessmen states that these practices are not new, and have been performed by companies around the state, if not the country, for decades.</p>
<p>“We must pick the best for our job,” he said in an interview this Monday. “And if your pokémon has yet to evolve, we must consider you sub par. This is the truth.”</p>
<p>It seems as if evolution is all that people can talk about nowadays. Organizations protecting the health and welfare of our pokémon friends tell us that an evolved pokémon is a happy and satisfied pokémon, but that sometimes evolution is a slow process. They say that these workplace actions that hinder men and women from joining the workforce are too strict, and may result in good workers not being taken for positions they may be most suitable for.</p>
<p>But if your pokémon is not evolved, look out! Your future money-making capabilities may be at a high risk!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Cass for giving me such a gorgeous piece of artwork to work with! We had a few bumps along the road trying to make a story work, but once we settled on this piece it was absolutely wonderful!  
> Thanks also to Teach for her great beta job!  
> And also to Of Monsters and Men and their album "Our Head Is An Animal" for inspiring a lot of this fic. Listen to them! Do it!  
> This is a pokémon!AU with a twist!

**POKÉBALLS BANNED!**

**The Wall Street Journal, _July 31st, 2013_**

_Pokéballs have been officially banned by the US Government this week after new research revealed that the storage of pokémon in the devices is inhumane and serves as animal cruelty._

_Some members of the senate argued that these tests were performed on more mundane animals, not pokémon, and therefore were not reliable sources of information, but specialists say that if we use pokéballs, we are putting our pokémon at a high risk of early death, from such causes as heart disease and stroke due to extreme stress provided by the balls._

_For now, it is a blanket ban across all of America, though some pokéball salesmen say it is only a matter of time that the ban is lifted. “We rely too heavily on pokéballs for transport, especially in lower economic regions, where transporting a large pokémon is just irrational and impossible.”_

_In New York, however, many organizations are showing their support in ad campaigns and workplace reform._

_“We never had pokéballs in the workplace,” one worker says. “But that was a matter of moral integrity. We are glad to see the government making a stand on this issue.”_

_But still, there are communities that are kicking up a fuss. Petitions are being signed around Ohio and Georgia, and we are yet to hear what Congress has to say about the many petitions that have been raised across the country._

* * *

 

**CEOs SAY IF YOUR POKÉMON IS NOT EVOLVED, YOU’RE NOT GETTING A JOB**

**The New York Times, _August 10th, 2013_**  

_The current gossip in the workplace is the new statements by CEO of Trust Enterprises, David Hayner. The businessmen states that these practices are not new, and have been performed by companies around the state, if not the country, for decades._

_“We must pick the best for our job,” he said in an interview this Monday. “And if your pokémon has yet to evolve, we must consider you sub par. This is the truth.”_

_It seems as if evolution is all that people can talk about nowadays. Organizations protecting the health and welfare of our pokémon friends tell us that an evolved pokémon is a happy and satisfied pokémon, but that sometimes evolution is a slow process. They say that these workplace actions that hinder men and women from joining the workforce are too strict, and may result in good workers not being taken for positions they may be most suitable for._

_“The state of our pokémon should not be the first source used to determine our maturity,” a spokeswoman for P-Health said. “They are beings independent from ourselves, and will behave accordingly.”_

_Despite statements like these and much scientific research detailing the individual nature of pokémon evolutions, workplace reform has not occurred and is unlikely to do so in the near future. In fact, economists predict that high unemployment and world population will only result in tougher tests to enter our workforce._

_If your pokémon is not evolved, look out! Your future money-making capabilities may be at a high risk!_


	2. One

_Her dirty paws and furry coat  
_ _She ran down the forest slope  
_ _The forest of talking trees  
_ _They used to sing about the birds and the bees_

Career days never went as planned at McKinley High. There was always one rowdy pokémon that decided to cause a scene, play fighting or actually fighting with another, seemingly innocent pokémon. Needless to say, it was generally electric types, which never helped matters. The teachers tried in vain to keep the creatures in line, but not even their individual owners could calm down the pokémon when they were so riled up. 

It was the confined places, Blaine decided. Every student and their pokémon were packed into the gym and encouraged to wander between the stalls of all the local companies and institutions that came out to encourage the students to take up their cause. There were factories and retailers and colleges. But only on the far side of the room, in a single booth manned by a morose looking man with a Furret, was a sign labelled _Interstate Enquiries._

Blaine made his way to the stall, pushing between cheerleaders and jocks. He held his Phanpy tight in his grip, trying to hold his frightful shakes at bay. The little pokémon was definitely not fond of crowds. They reminded him of fighting and battles, Blaine knew, the kinds of things that timid little Phanpy’s were impossibly afraid of. He ran his knuckles along his pokémon’s trunk. “Don’t be scared, little guy.”

The booth, once they reached it, was almost isolated. It was tucked into the corner, a forgotten option, and once they were clear of the crowd, Blaine let Phanpy slip from his hands and onto the ground. He snuffled around his feet and squished himself between Blaine’s ankles.

“Hello,” he said to the man behind the desk. The Furret raised his head. 

“Are you looking for the food table?” the man asked, rolling his head up to look at Blaine. His eyes had dark shadows under them and a little drool was slipping from the edge of his mouth.

“No, sir. Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Sleeping? No.” He widened his eyes and yawned, lifting his arms above his head and leaning back into his chair. “Just resting my eyes, boy, just resting my eyes.”

Even as Blaine stood there, the man seemed to waver, as if the slightest push would knock the chair out from under him. From it’s spot on the counter, his Furret let out a low moan. 

“I was wanting to ask you about interstate colleges, sir,” Blaine pushed, leaning closer to the desk. “I know it’s not very common, but this town isn’t the place for me.”

“It’s never the place, is it,” the man replied, but his eyes didn’t land on Blaine’s face, and he had the feeling he was looking into his own memory, seeing something Blaine would never be able to experience. 

“Do you have any literature for me, sir?” he asked, motioning to the short stack of pamphlets beside the Furret. “I- I really want to study interstate. My brother Cooper did it. I know it can be done. I mean, I know this school doesn’t really encourage that kind of option but I know a lot of people who have made the move, and it’s the kind of thing I want to do. I don’t want to be stuck in Ohio like all these others.” He leaned even closer, until he was almost touching the man’s face. “I’m better than them.”

The man seemed to become more alert at that, leaning forward in his own chair so Blaine had to take a small step back. Phanpy screeched at his feet, and the man leaned forward over the desk to look at the little pokémon. 

“Your pokémon hasn’t evolved,” he said. 

“No, sir.” Blaine looked down at Phanpy, cowering between his legs and picked him up, hugging him tight to his chest. “But he is loyal, sir.” He tried to keep the shake out of his voice. He was the only one in his class whose pokémon had yet to evolve and it was _embarrassing._ He knew they whispered behind his back that he was lazy, incompetent. That he couldn’t even evolve his first pokémon. Even his best friend Tina’s Horsea had evolved three months ago. 

The man representing Interstate Enquiries reached out a hand, stroking Phanpy’s trunk. “My Furret didn’t evolve until a year ago,” he said. “I was the disgrace of my family, and the lowest of low in the office.” He looked at the stall around him. “I guess I still am.”

“I’m a hard worker, sir,” Blaine insisted. “And I’m good at what I do. I can make music, but I can also make a good coffee and I’m good at my school work, I could work in an office, I could do anything.”

“Just not in this town?” the man asked. 

“I- I can’t stay here. Not with everyone who tells me I’m worth nothing.”

The man watched him with careful eyes. “And you think it will be better if you leave?” he asked. 

“ _Yes._ ” 

“Then you’re sadly mistaken.” He motioned to his Furret, who jumped off the table and landed in his lap, curling into a tight ball. He leaned back in his chair and lowered his eyelids, feigning sleep once more.

“I’m not dumb, you know,” Blaine said angrily and hugged Phanpy tighter, turning his back on the man from Interstate Enquiries. Even someone from the bottom of the heap thought Blaine was a loser, and that stung more than anything. He turned his shoulder towards the crowd and pushed his way through, holding his breath tightly to stop the tears from falling.

* * *

 

“You’re only a child, Blaine,” his mother told him, sitting down at their kitchen counter. “There is no rush.”

“I’m in my Senior Year! It’s almost over! I need a solid plan, and that plan does not involve Phanpy!” The little pokémon snorted indignantly from at his feet. “I need an evolved pokémon if I’m ever going to enter the workplace, mom!”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” she said, pulling herbs and spices from the pantry. The soup was bubbling on the stove, and she stirred it diligently as she spoke to Blaine. “Your phanpy will evolve soon enough, and then you will have the whole world in front of you.”

“But what if he doesn’t!”

“All pokémon evolve eventually, Blaine.” Her Sawsbuck pawed the ground at the edge of the kitchen, letting out a snuffle from her nose. She nudged the basket at the window, knocking an apple to the floor and snagging it up between her teeth.

“Even Phanpy?” Blaine asked.

“Even Phanpy.” She tasted the soup and added salt and pepper, motioning for Blaine to get the bowls. 

“But what am I going to do if he doesn’t?”

As she spooned the soup into the bowls, his mother wrapped her spare arm around his shoulder, pulling her into a one armed hug at his side. “Blaine, you’re the best man I know. Who cares about how evolved your pokémon is. Some of them are just stubborn, you know that. And you can prove to those people in the big city that you can do anything.”

It wasn’t something she said often, that she was proud of him. And even then, she never said it directly. But in those moments, Blaine felt the most like acting like a child, and curling up into his mother’s arms. 

But he only squeezed her side in return and grabbed the bowls, taking them over to the table. At his feet, Phanpy let out a snort of agreement.

* * *

_Dear Diary,  
_ _Or Journal,  
_ _or whatever,_

_I guess I’m writing this in an attempt to get out some of my anger. Phanpy does the little trunk quiver when I vent at him, and mom thinks she knows how to solve all my problems. But she doesn’t understand, and Phanpy doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, and I just don’t know how to deal with it anymore._

_I want to leave Ohio. I want to leave Ohio and live in New York and do something for myself, be something. I can’t be like that man at the career’s carnival. I can’t let myself become like that, a cynic of the world at large, tired of doing anything. I don’t want to be like that when Phanpy finally evolves._

_Maybe I need to get another pokémon. There are good homes needed for pokémon all the time, and I could take one in and train it, and maybe it would evolve better than damn Phanpy. Why does he have to be so stubborn? It’s not like we don’t work hard on it! We train every day! But he just likes being a tubby little baby too much, and he likes how everyone fawns over him._

_I’m sick of being told I don’t know anything. I’m sick of being told I’m not good enough. Even Tina has told me I need to get Phanpy evolved. It would solve all my problems, but I can’t do anything. I can’t make him evolve anymore than I can make the sky purple, or the clouds to rain lemonade._

_I’m stuck in a rut, and I need to get out. I just need to leave Ohio and not let them touch me. I am better than them. I am better than all of them._


	3. Two

_Some had scars and some had scratches  
_ _It made me wonder about their past  
_ _And as I looked around I began to notice  
_ _That we were nothing like the rest_  

Vogue.com’s newest intern was frustrated with his housemates. Living with two girls and three unruly pokémon was never going to be a good mix, and trying to work on his spread while the girls argued about who had claim over their joint purchase of Jake Gyllenhaal’s (fake) signed underwear was never going to end well.

Their apartment could be consider huge by some standards, but tiny by others. It was a studio loft, with one small bathroom and one large... room. Kurt had managed to divide his own bedroom using complex curtains and wardrobes, but even still, the sound travelled. 

His Eevee sat at his side, curled up around his free arm while he dragged and dropped photoshoot images into his spread. She purred and licked the back of his hand, her body thrumming. Outside the curtains, Santana and Rachel screamed at each other.

“The underwear belongs to me, sweet cheeks.”

“But I was the one that saw him at Sardi’s!”

“I paid more than half of the price!”

“He shook my hand and told me I was pretty!”

“My name is across the ass!”

Kurt stood up angrily, Eevee hissing as he pulled his arm away. He pushed the curtain aside and stood his ground between the two girls, hands on his hips. “For god’s sake, you agreed to buy the damn things together,” he said. “And if you keep fighting about it, I’m going to put them in the trash. They’re fake anyway, and if anyone has any kind of moral claim, I guess it would be Santana.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide and she rushed at Kurt, her Bayleef behind her, but Kurt held up his hands and his Eevee stepped in front of him, guarding him.

“Let me at him!” Rachel screamed, but Eevee only hissed and stood her ground. “He sided with her!”

“Only because I’m right,” Santana drawled. Her own pokémon, a slinky Ninetails, slipped around her long tanned legs. “And you know it. You just want a little rub off to old Jakey-Poo and can’t stand that I have three quarter ownership. You only get him on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“You’re a lesbian!”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t stop you from having fun!”

“Argh!” Rachel motioned to her Bayleef and stalked off to her own bed, climbing into the sheets and putting the covers over her head, the closest thing to slamming a door they could come to in their apartment.

Santana, for her own part, moved towards the bathroom, standing beside the open door and slamming it once, twice, three times. “That first one is you leaving the apartment,” she said, one hand on her hip. “That second one is after I open it to yell at you how great it is that you’re going.” She smirked at the pile of blankets that was Rachel’s bed. “And that third one is Kurt, to tell you he’s sick of you too.”

“Leave me out of this, Santana,” Kurt said and picked up Eevee, carrying her over to his bed. He pulled the curtains shut behind him as he went. “Just because I am the only one here with any sense doesn’t mean I would go after Rachel for a last laugh. I would like to say I’m better than that.”

“Oh, as if.” But Santana and her Ninetails moved towards her own bed, slipping with grace under the covers. Ninetails curled up around her body, purring softly. 

In his own bed, Kurt pulled off his jeans and shirt and nuzzled into Eevee, breathing in the scent of her fur. “I guess I’m not getting any more work done tonight,” he murmured.

* * *

 

By the subway ride into work the next morning, Kurt had almost entirely forgotten about the petty spat the night before. They were the kind of things that happened often in their apartment: they were usually between Rachel and Santana, they usually lasted between twenty minutes and an hour, and the next morning, the two girls hugged and made up as easy as anything. Especially if someone deemed to get up early to wash the dishes or make breakfast.

What plagued Kurt’s mind more was the day’s work to be done. He had minutes to take in the interoffice meeting, shoots to oversee, and most importantly, his spreads to finalize and then run past Isabelle.

His head of department was a wonderful woman, kind and caring and with a flair for fashion that he admired. Her Beautifly was always to be seen, flitting among the rooms and carrying little slips of notepaper, her own personal messenger. Like many workplaces nowadays, Vogue.com was welcoming pokémon into the work environment and allowing them to serve the functions they had been originally bred and tamed to do. When Kurt worked, Eevee curled in his lap, keeping him warm and comfortable and providing moral support. 

But still, pokémon were always a place of discussion. Kurt’s position was one of extreme importance, especially to Isabelle herself, and finding someone to fill the role had been hard on her. There had been many good applicants, with well trained pokémon, highly evolved. But still, she had lingered, unable to choose any. 

Until Kurt had walked through her door, biting his lip and fingers tangling in the fur at Eevee’s neck. Even as he stood and waited for his interview, he was aware that he was under qualified. At least in the ways that mattered. Eevee had yet to evolve, and to all the other places he had applied, that meant that he was unable to do even the most basic of tasks. But he had to at least try.

Even as he walked in, Kurt knew Isabelle was different. Or at least that she appeared to like him. She smiled as he approached her desk and sat down in the too comfortable chair, Eevee curling around his knees.

“What a beautiful Eevee,” she had said, and smiled again. No potential employer ever smiled at the sight of Eevee. “How long have you had her?”

Kurt dug his fingers into his pokémon’s fur, keeping her close, though she had made no movement to pull away. “She is my first,” he said through teeth barely parted. 

“And your only?” Isabelle’s voice was kind. She reached her hand up to touch her Beautifly, letting it’s small feet dance across her knuckles. “Beautifly is my only pokémon.”

Kurt let himself smile; it was tiny in comparison to hers, but it was there, and Isabelle seemed to grasp it in her hands, and hold it as if it were precious. 

“Let me offer you this job,” she said, leaning across her desk. “You are a lot like me, Kurt. More than you think.” Her Beautifly landed on her shoulder, her wings fluttering gently. “You are the first person to walk through this door whom I think I could trust. If you want this job, it is yours.”

And he had signed the paperwork that day, the pen shaking in his hands. When he had finally reached home that night, he had sobbed into Rachel’s shoulder, and then Santana’s, his smile completely uncontainable. 

He slipped up the steps to the main office, holding his hand out for Eevee to follow. In the foyer Melanie, the receptionist, handed him a stack of letters and parcels, and he tucked them under his arm as he moved towards the open elevator, slipping inside and pressing the button for Level 10. 

This building, in his five months of employment, had become like a second home to him. He had worked hard to prove to the other employees that he was better than they thought, that the fact that Eevee was yet to evolve meant nothing to his ability to work. And slowly, they were coming to respect him. Isabelle treated him like an equal, and that certainly helped. But even when she was out of town, researching designs in Paris or London, their built respect for him never wavered.

It felt like an achievement. It felt like a shove in the face to all the possible employers that had turned him down.

“Morning, Kurt!”

“How are you this morning, Kurt?”

“Here’s Miss Isabelle’s coffee, Kurt.”

He grabbed the latte passed to him and carried it into his office where he placed down the mail before hurrying through into Isabelle’s workroom. 

“Here’s your coffee,” he said, handing it to her as she shuffled cut outs of shoots across a large sheet of marked out paper. 

“Today’s spread is very important,” she told him without looking up. “I’ve had a message from the magazine, and sales are slipping, but our viewership is going up. They are saying we at Vogue.com may be the new face of the Vogue company worldwide. We may become the most important aspect of the company.”

She switched two images on her spread and then looked up, catching Kurt’s eye. “The pressure is on.” A grin quirked at the corner of her mouth, and Kurt returned it, leaning in closer to examine the spread.  

“Is this for Stella McCartney’s new range?” he asked, and Isabelle nodded. She took a step back to examine her handiwork then shook her head. “But it’s wrong. Something is wrong, and I can’t place it.” She switched two more images and frowned. “Tell me, what’s wrong with it?”

Kurt stepped around the table, coming to stand by her side. He perused the spread carefully, and as Eevee flicked her tail around his legs, switched two images, one of bright colors and one of muted tones. “Better?” he asked.

Isabelle smiled. “Much.” She took a sip of her latte and settled down at her desk, glancing at the physical spread to enter it into her computer. “Sometimes I really hate running a website.”

“Sometimes I really hate helping you run a website.”

She held back a grin and shooed him away with her hand. “Don’t you lie. You love watching me struggle.” 

“That I do.” He stepped backwards toward the door, Eevee at his heels. “I’ll have my pages on your desk by lunch. It’s nothing like Stella McCartney, but I hope it’s good enough.”

“Your pages are always good, Kurt,” Isabelle said. And turned back to her work, letting him leave. 

There were days where not one fiber of his being regretted being at Vogue.com.


	4. Three

_And I’m never ready  
_ _Cause I know, I know, I know  
_ _That time won’t let me  
_ _Show what I want to show_  

Graduation approached hard and fast and it felt like Blaine was falling down a slippery slope of no future and nowhere to go. His mother kept telling him he had nothing to fear, that he would be able to do whatever he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t true. She kept the papers from him, kept the TV turned away from the news, but even she couldn’t hide him from the truth that seemed to be everywhere nowadays.

In this growing world, with high populations and economic tightening, people like Blaine were simply left behind. There was no position suitable for them anymore. He would have to put his life on hold, once he left the doors of McKinley high, until Phanpy decided it was time to evolve.

Each afternoon, once school let out, Blaine would take the long way home, past the park. He would push Phanpy harder and harder, picking fights with kids Blaine used to call bullies in the hope that the anger would make the little pokémon evolve. 

But still, nothing changed, and even as the school prepared for graduation, Blaine drew into himself. He had no ambition, no drive; nothing except to train and train and train and hope beyond hope that a miracle would happen.

On the day they handed him his High School Diploma, he stood with a brave face, holding back his tears until he was inside the safety of his own room and could cry freely. Phanpy, for all he had done, curled up beside Blaine’s stomach and snorted what seemed to be an apology. It only made him cry harder.

* * *

 

“Wake up, Blaine.” A hand on his shoulder shook him into consciousness and he groaned, rolling over and wrapping his arm around Phanpy’s soft body. He lapsed back into sleep with a snuffle and a moan. “Blaine! Wake up!”

Another heavy nudge at his shoulder and he was rolled unceremoniously onto the floor. “Squirt, get up, you’ve got some packing to do.” He blinked up into the light that pooled around his older brother’s head and groaned. 

“What’s going on, Coop?” He could hear the grunt and snort of Cooper’s Walrein behind him, and from his bed Phanpy trumpeted in greeting.

“I’m taking you with me to New York,” he said, and stepped away from Blaine to start pulling clothes into a suitcase Blaine had never seen before. It was navy and covered in white spots. “Sorry about the case, it was the only thing I could get with the cash in my wallet at such short notice. This town really needs to open more stores earlier.” 

Blaine struggled off the floor, reaching for Phanpy. The little pokémon nestled into his lap, nudging him gently in the thigh as if to say “Get up, we’re going.”

“This isn’t a decision for you,” Blaine said but stood up, watching from the other side of the room as Cooper pulled open his drawers and tossed underwear, jeans, shirts and socks into the suitcase. When it was full he yanked the zipper shut and tossed Blaine his jacket. 

“Get dressed, Blaine. We leave in half an hour.” 

Blaine looked at the clock; it was barely six in the morning. “What’s the rush?”

Cooper squared his feet and placed his hands on his hips. “I have work to get back to. And don’t you want to be out of Ohio?”

He bit into his lip. Of course he did, but he’d planned on going calmly, with a hire car and moving van. Not before sunrise with a suitcase and no idea what he was going to do when he got there. But it was the city, a move, and he would be gone from this wretched place.

“Will I be staying with you?” he asked.

“For a while. I have a spare room, but I’ll only be able to let you stay rent free for a little while. Then you’ll have to pay your own way.” Which required a job. Something which Blaine was incredibly scared he would be unable to get. At his side, Phanpy snorted and butted into his leg.

“Okay, fine. I’ll come.” He tried not to think about his suitcase already packed, about how sure Cooper was that he was going to say yes. He just needed to get out. If he was lucky, he could get a job quickly in the city and be able to pay his part of the rent. If he couldn’t, at least he’d had a chance to experience the city. He will have left Ohio, if only for a short period of time.

He scooped Phanpy up under his arm and grabbed the suitcase with his other hand. 

His brother smiled and held open the door, like he was holding open the door to another life. In a way, he was.

* * *

 

The drive passed in relative silence. Blaine had shoved his iPod into his ears and Cooper sang along to the radio but they didn’t talk and their pokémon in the backseat slept most of the way. When they arrived, Cooper let them into the apartment with a key that stuck in the lock and Blaine leaned his suitcase up against the wall of the room that was to be his. Something about the whole thing felt impermanent, so he left his suitcase packed and instead followed his brother out the door to buy takeout from the thai place down the street. He didn’t unpack his bag for weeks.

New York was everything he thought it would be and everything he hadn’t at the same time. The city was bustling, alive, and it made the blood thrum in his veins. He would take hours, days to explore various districts, ducking into shops and eateries, following the scent of a good hotdog or purchasing a t-shirt with a witty slogan like _Hedgehogs, why don’t they just share the hedge?_  

But even as he explored, he took with his a heavy stack of resumes in his bag, handing them out everywhere. He tried to keep Phanpy at a distance, but they always asked, and they always saw, and they always said they’d hand his resume on, but he never heard back. He even saw one staff member throw the sheets of paper straight into the trash.

He was starting to get desperate. Cooper had laid down the terms of their arrangement in more detail over their first dinner. He was to get work within a month, or find some other way to pay rent, preferably in a legal manner. The rent was cheap, but it was still rent, and he couldn’t ask their parents for money. Food, too, would be paid for by Cooper for the first month, but after that he was on his own. His brother called it growing up. Blaine called it impossible. 

But it didn’t stop him from trying. 

He’d just been turned down gently at his first actual interview when he came across the music store, with its array of guitars in the front window. His wallet was dry, as it had been the whole time he was in the city, but he ducked inside, if only to hand in his resume. 

Every wall of the store was covered in instruments, and in the centre of the large room were tables covered in vinyls, tapes and CDs. At the counter, a young woman with piercings up the entire length of her ear smiled at him. On the counter beside her was a Lairon, curled up in a ball.

“Stop interfering with the sound quality,” she snapped at it, and the pokémon huffed. “He has a temper,” she said to Blaine. “Likes to fiddle with the sounds. Magnetic fields and everything.” Blaine didn’t have much experience with steel type pokémon but he nodded anyway. “What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, right,” Blaine said and smiled the award winning smile he conserved for prospective job opportunities. He dug around his bag with one hand, trying to separate a single resume without showing his large stack to the girl. “I’m looking for work,” he said, handing the sheets over. “I’m good with music, and I can even play some guitar.” Not well, but he didn’t stress that point. He’d spent most of his time over the last year pushing Phanpy to evolve that he hadn’t had the time to practice on the guitars in the music room at school.

“Really?” she asked, and her eyes lit up. “We’re fully staffed in the store at the moment, but pubs and things come to us to place advertisements for people to play gigs. A little hippy lady came in the other day, looking for an easy listening someone to play Friday afternoons in her cafe. You think you can do that? You’ll be playing for tips but its a job, right?” 

“Definitely,” Blaine grinned. She was most definitely right.

And then he realised the one catch with the job. He’d need his own instruments. “Oh,” he said softly. “I can’t.” He ducked his head, keeping his eyes on his feet. How could he have totally let the biggest problem slip past him. “I don’t have my own guitar.” He bit his lip and looked up at the girl, but she was grinning.

“This is totally not normally allowed, but I like you.” She came around the counter and led him towards the back shelf of acoustic guitars and ukeleles. “We’re going to have to start small, to prove that you can pay back your loan, but we can lend you a ukelele. Pay us back a commission of your tips till you’ve paid for the whole thing and it’s yours. And then you can work your way up in the world.” She grinned and handed him the instrument. His first thought was that it felt right in his hands. The second was that was a horribly cliche sentiment. 

“I don’t want to make things hard for you,” he said to the girl. She only laughed. “I don’t think you’re gonna ditch on us. Plus, I bet you and your phanpy can make great noise when you try hard.”

He’d thought she might not have noticed Phanpy, but the pokémon jumped and batted his trunk in her face. There was no missing him now.

“He thinks that’s a kiss,” Blaine tried to explain, but she was laughing again and he laughed too. “Come here, Phanpy.”

He held him at his side and tucked the ukelele under his other arm. “Well, thanks,” he said. “You have my details on my resume I guess.”

“That’s right. I’ll text you the address of the cafe and you start on Friday.”

Blaine smiled and walked out the door. He ran straight back to Cooper’s and locked himself in his room with Phanpy, trying to adapt every song he could think of to the ukelele.

* * *

 

When he arrived at the cafe at three that Friday afternoon, he realized two things he probably should have clicked about before. The first was that the girl with the piercings _was_ the hippy girl that owned the cafe. And the second was that she was very very popular with her employees and customers. Her name tag read Euphony, and she bustled about behind the counter, mixing the next week’s special blend of herbal tea and chatting to the customers as they waited in line to pay. 

Blaine set himself up in the far corner, pulling up a chair and one for Phanpy. He didn’t really know how to work a PA, though Euphony had offered him one, so instead he positioned himself facing the room and repeated his mantra; _keep your head up, send your voice out, keep your head up, send your voice out._

“You ready to start?” he murmured to Phanpy and he snorted in agreement. “Okay, let’s go, one, two, three...”

He had searched for hours on the internet, searching for the right songs to play, the right setlist. He didn’t know how long he’d have to play for, or what kind of audience he was going to have, so he’d tried to spread around between popular tunes and some more underground things. When he’d made his list of possible songs he was happy that every single one of them told something about him to whoever was listening, no matter how tiny. 

 _“I heard them calling in the distance  
_ _So I packed my things and ran  
_ _Far away from all the trouble  
_ _I had caused with my two hands  
_ _Alone we travelled on with nothing but a shadow  
_ _We fled, far away.”_  

At the end of each song Euphony cheered loudly and the small audience of tea drinkers clapped as well. The open case of the ukelele filled slowly but surely, and one man placed a twenty dollar note into the case, tucking it into the lining. When he was done, he had a small wad of cash and a case full of coins. He asked Euphony what she wanted for the ukelele. 

“Good haul,” she replied with a smile. “Back next week?” Blaine nodded. “Well, I’ll take the coin and you keep the bills. Does that sound good? The cafe always needs coins.” It seemed fine to Blaine, so he let her lift out the large handful of coin and sort it into piles, counting under her breath as she did so.

When he arrived back home, he handed the remaining fifty dollars to Cooper. “Rent,” he said.

“You’re a week early,” his brother said, but took the money anyway. “But don’t you dare give me anything next week. I won’t rob from my brother.”

Blaine couldn’t stop smiling.

Every day of the week he would walk around the city in the morning, buy something warm for lunch and then go back to the apartment to add new songs to his repertoire. He was getting good, for all his lack of earlier practice, and even Cooper would comment when he walked through the door. His tips only kept growing, and it was less than a month before he’d paid off the ukelele to Euphony.

He felt like he had made it in the city, despite Phanpy. Or as much as you can being one eighteen year old in New York City. He was making money, though not strictly steady employment. He was paying his rent and getting free coffee on the side and he was living. Living more than he ever could in Ohio, more than he ever thought he’d been able to with Phanpy by his side. He and his pokémon were becoming closer, back to the friends they had been before everyone else’s pokémon were evolving and Phanpy just wasn’t. Life felt good.

* * *

 

He grabbed the peppermint tea that Euphony handed him as he walked into the cafe, carefully placing his ukelele and new guitar into the corner. “Busy week?” he asked her. 

“The usual. Can’t complain,” she grinned. “We had to allow bookings for tonight, too many people were interested in you.” 

“Oh man, that many?”

“Sure thing. I had to run down to the health food store and get more herbs! You little star!” She elbowed him gently in the ribs and he laughed, making his way over to his corner. Phanpy took his seat beside him and snorted, nodding towards the tea. 

“It’s too hot for you, you know what happened last time.”

Phanpy snorted.

“Oh calm down, it’s not the end of the world. Just wait a few minutes.”

They waited as the room filled, and Blaine began to understand what Euphony had meant by busy. Every seat was soon taken and a small crowd of children had gathered at his feet. He watched at the door as more people pushed through, grins on their faces and wallets already out.  

He positioned the ukelele on his knee and started to play.


	5. Four

_The sea said goodbye to the shore so the sun wouldn’t notice  
_ _The seaweed wrapped its arms around you  
_ _The carpet on my cheek feels like a forest  
_ _And I run through the tall trees with your hand chasing me  
_ _The books that I keep by my bag are full of your stories  
_ _That I drew up from a little dream of mine, a little nightmare of yours  
_ _To beat us, to take this plunge, to forgive and forget  
_ _And be the better man, to be a better man, to be a better man_

Rachel was right; his voice was something magical and he could play his instruments unlike anyone he’d ever seen. He had to admit he didn’t have much experience, but Kurt was caught up in the music, and he thought that was one of the things that mattered most. He’d already pulled out a fiver, out of politeness, but as he pushed through the crowd to find a seat and the song drew to a close, he pulled his wallet from his pocket to pull out a few more. 

Rachel was the one who had told him about this place, about the interesting store owner and her interesting teas. She had spotted the sign on a cold day when the _special-tea,_ as it was labelled, was soothing throat tisanes. When she had sat down to drink, the boy and his Phanpy had been playing. Eevee had been interested as soon as the Phanpy was mentioned. Another teenager out of school and with an unevolved pokémon.

There were no seats left, so Kurt made his way closer to the boy, finding a spot of ground to settle himself upon. Eevee curled up in his lap, her head on his knees. Around him were groups of small children, swinging their hips in a version of a dance and laughing as their pokémon played around them. A Cleffa tipped over a Happiny with a bright laugh and their children giggled.

The atmosphere in the cafe was alive, and it all seemed to be emanating from the boy and his Phanpy. When Kurt looked closer he was aware that the boy was no older than himself, and perhaps only a year or six months younger. But his youthfulness was overflowing. The city had certainly not stained him yet.

Kurt’s eyes were transfixed. A woman came round, offering him a drink, but he turned it down, giving her a distracted smile in apology. During a break in the music he crawled between the children to place his wadded up ball of cash into the boys ukelele case. He couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

He didn’t leave his spot on the floor again until the performance was over. The spell seemed almost broken and the crowd was dispersing, parents ushering children over to their tables and settling the bills of their growing lists of coffee and cakes. But Kurt stayed seated, Eevee purring gently in his lap. 

The boy behind the guitar watched him and he watched the boy. Their eye contact was filled with something Kurt couldn’t describe but he didn’t want to stop, not at all.

“Hi,” the boy finally said, but his gaze didn’t move. “I’m Blaine.” A small trumpet came from beside him. “And this is Phanpy.”

“Kurt,” he replied, “and Eevee.” She lifted her head and growled affectionately. 

“Let me buy you a drink?” Blaine asked, hand reaching blindly for his ukelele case. He snagged the edge and pulled it closer to himself, still not breaking eye contact. 

“On the house!” the owner called from the counter and Blaine blushed. 

“Well, I guess at least get you a free one?”

Kurt smiled. “Peppermint, please.” The words burst like colour from his tongue. Blaine hardly even moved, but Kurt could hear the bustle of the tea being brewed behind him. It was Blaine who finally broke eye contact, to remove his guitar and pack up his instruments. The money in the ukelele case was sorted quickly into two piles and he pocketed the notes, keeping the coins loose in his hands. He came and sat down opposite Kurt, his Phanpy joining them.

“You play really well,” Kurt offered.

“Oh, thanks. I’ve only been playing this past month, but I practice a lot.”

“You don’t have a job?”

The colour rose in Blaine’s cheeks. “Here’s good enough pay, especially when there’s a turn out like tonight. I live with my brother.”

Kurt looked again at Phanpy, at his boisterous nature, even now nudging Blaine gently in the side. He watched as the boys hand slipped out, rubbing between the pokémon’s large ears and down his trunk. He absentmindedly threaded his fingers through Eevee’s fur in a similar manner.

“Do you like it in the city?” Kurt asked. “It can be hard on a lot of people.”

Blaine laughed. “I love it. I meet new people everyday, I earn my keep, and I get to do it doing things I love. If I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have met you.” He blushed again, and Kurt had the feeling he hadn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but even he could not deny that the attraction was there, bubbling between them like hot tea.

The owner brought across their tea and Kurt sipped, breathing in the light aromas of the mint.

“I can’t stay here all night,” Kurt said softly when the cup was half empty, unwilling to break their companionable silence. “But I’d love to see you again. I’ll certainly be back next week.”

Once again Blaine flushed, ducking his head. “I’m not-” he stammered. “I don’t-” But he pulled a pen from his pocket and motioned with his head towards Kurt’s hand. Kurt smiled and held it up for him.

He wrote his number in simple lettering, making sure to get the angle right for Kurt to see. He bit his lip throughout, a gesture that seemed to Kurt entirely innocent. He wondered to himself how a boy playing to a packed cafe could possibly be sitting opposite him, writing his number on his hand, but he only smiled. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said as he stood to go. He almost held out his hand for Blaine to shake, but it felt horribly formal after those looks that they’d shared across that carpeted floor. Instead he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Blaine’s cheek.

He called him that night.

* * *

 

Their friendship blossomed fast and it worried Rachel and Santana. That such a small moment had meant so much to Kurt didn’t make sense for them. Rachel accused him of making it up and Santana was sure he’d read too much into the whole thing. 

But each night one of them called the other; first Kurt and then Blaine, and then Blaine again. They would talk for hours, about Kurt’s day and about Blaine’s explorations of the city. He learned about Cooper and Blaine’s fears that Phanpy would never evolve. In turn, he told Blaine his similar fears that Eevee would remain a juvenile forever. Sometimes he felt Blaine was jealous of his work position, of how he had made somewhat of a career for himself, slowly moving up the ranks at Vogue. But Kurt continued to insist how much of it had been luck and how much had been Isabelle.

The next Friday they met again at the cafe, Kurt arriving straight from work. The room was still quite empty and they sat together at a small table, just talking and sipping tea. As they sat, Kurt reached tentatively and took Blaine’s hand. Neither of them could stop smiling and when it was time for Blaine to play, Kurt sat with the children once again, even though there was plenty of time for him to get a seat. 

“You don’t know anything about him,” Rachel said when he got home that night. “He could be a psycho for all you know. Especially with how fast this is all going.”

“You told me to go the cafe!” he argued, but Rachel only pretended she hadn’t heard.

Santana’s advice was no more helpful. “You’re going to scare him off if you keep it up. Men like more teasing and less pleasing.”

But he couldn’t stop talking to Blaine and seeing Blaine. Eevee too became brighter when they were all together, dancing more lightly around their toes and Phanpy would snort happily at everyone passing by. They had made no labels, but they held hands occasionally as they walked, and every time they parted Kurt would kiss Blaine lightly on the cheek, smiling as the blush spread.

It had been almost a month when Blaine called on a Sunday night, inviting Kurt over to his apartment. Cooper was going to be out and Blaine had offered to make dinner. Rachel and Santana warned him against it, but he bought a bouquet of flowers and found himself at Blaine’s door five minutes before the decided time. When he rang the intercom, Blaine replied with a rushed, “Everything is burned! Everything is burned!” 

He climbed the steps to the apartment quickly to find Blaine standing amid a stove filled with smoking pots. “Oh, Blaine,” he said softly and moved into action, running the faucet hot and running the water into the pots. The damage wasn’t too extensive to the cookware, but the food was ruined. “Let’s just order take-out,” Kurt said with a smile. 

They filled a vase for the flowers and Blaine found a bottle of wine in the cupboard while they waited for their meal to arrive. Blaine’s apartment was warm and cosy, the kind of place that was clean but well lived in. He made a mental note to clean his own apartment when Blaine planned to come over. 

They drank from plastic cups and ate thai food out of the packet on the floor in front of the TV, leaning into each other’s shoulders and laughing at reruns of _Friends._ Kurt didn’t know how any of this could possibly be wrong, or overstepping, or any of the other many things Santana and Rachel had accused him of doing. When Blaine’s arm twisted through his and their fingers slid together and when Blaine blushed into his shoulder; those were the kind of things that felt utterly right to Kurt.

“A lot of people told me I’d never be able to make it in the city, not with Phanpy,” Blaine said softly once the food containers were tossed aside and all that was left were their cups of wine.

“People told me the same thing,” Kurt replied. “But you know what? They’re wrong. There’s nothing second rate about us. We work just as hard, we live just as bright, we love just as strong.” He hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to squeeze Blaine’s hand as he said it but he had and he couldn’t turn back now. He didn’t regret it and it wasn’t _I love you,_ and even as he felt his stomach curl into a tight ball, Blaine was grinning and squeezing back. 

“I know.” He was impossibly near, impossibly close and Kurt couldn’t back down, not when Blaine seemed to be taking this where Kurt so badly wanted to take it and it had only been a month, but a month was long enough, especially when their friendship burned so strongly. “I know,” he said again, softer. His lips were inches away and then less and he was kissing Kurt in ways Kurt had never been kissed before. Like he mattered. Like he was everything. He kissed him back in turn.

It was Phanpy who broke the moment, snorting loudly. Next to him, Eevee growled, head butting Kurt in the back. “Fine,” he laughed, breaking apart from Blaine. “Fine, I see how it is.” But he was grinning and so was Blaine and he couldn’t stop. “I should probably go,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be late back.” 

“Right, yes. You don’t live here, do you?” he said with a laugh as he stood up, holding out his hand for Kurt. Eevee, realizing they were leaving, bounded down from the couch and twined around Kurt’s feet. 

They made it down the stairs to the door before Blaine caught Kurt’s hand and pulled him back, kissing him once more. “I’ll call you,” he said softly.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He waited with Phanpy at the door as Kurt and Eevee started to walk, Kurt wrapping his coat around his body. He turned when they reached the end of the block, waving quickly to try and warm up his hands. The light turned green and he stepped into the road. Eevee ducked ahead of him, jumping up into the air, almost like a wave.

The car sped across the intersection and crashed into her body, sending her flying and sprawling across the ground.


	6. Five

_I’m looking for a place to start  
_ _But everything feels so different now  
_ _Just grab a hold of my hand  
_ _I will lead you through this wonderland_

All Blaine could hear was screaming. Kurt was screaming, Phanpy was screaming and he was screaming too, though he couldn’t feel the movements of his own vocal chords. 

“No! No! No!” Kurt was saying, over and over as he crouched in front of the little pokémon, cradling her in his arms. “No!”

Blaine scooped Phanpy tight into his arms and ran down the pavement, reaching Kurt’s side and lifting him to his feet. He pulled them off the crossing, out of the road and then let him collapse again, into the warmth of his arms. They were on the ground together, Blaine wrapped as best he could around Kurt, Phanpy tight at his side. Kurt was crying, deep wracking sobs that shifted his whole body. But Eevee was horribly still.

“He ran the red!” Kurt screamed. “He ran the fucking red!”

“I know.” Blaine rocked him back and forth softly. “I know. I know. Come on, Kurt. I need you calm so we can get Eevee to the hospital. She can’t stay out here in the cold, not if we’re going to save her.”

“She’s dead, Blaine! She’s dead!” But Blaine wasn’t going to give up until he knew for sure. He pushed Kurt to his feet and followed, lifting Eevee into his arms and handing her to Kurt with gentle movements.  

“Don’t squeeze her, okay? Just hold firm. We’re going to the hospital.” He held out an arm, trying to hail a taxi but all were busy or not taking passengers. “Shit,” he growled, and grabbed Kurt’s arm gently. “Okay, we’re walking. Come on.”

Kurt was still crying, his eyes, which were normally so bright, dulled in the night sky. Blaine held his waist as they walked, but he kept one solid eye on Phanpy, keeping him safe. There would be no more cars coming near them, so long as he was there.

The nearest hospital was six blocks up the road and Kurt was still breathing heavily but Blaine kept his grip firm. _Be strong,_ he told himself. _Be strong._ It was easier said than done. Every few feet Kurt would scream again, no longer words, only sounds of anguish. There were others on the street, some who’d stayed home late after work and others going to their night shifts. But the city, of course, could not hear Kurt’s cries and no one stopped to help them.

Blaine tried to rush them along, desperate to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. He tightened his grip on Kurt, pushed him forward when he slowed and supported him when he stumbled. As they approached, Kurt’s cries finally alerted someone to their presence, and the nurse at A&E ran out of the building, searching Eevee carefully for a heartbeat. She must have felt something, because the next moment she was calling over her shoulder and another nurse was bringing out a stretcher. Together and with Blaine’s help they pulled the little pokémon from Kurt’s tight grasp.

“It’s okay,” Blaine whispered into his ear, holding on to as much of his body as he could manage, squeezing him tight. “It’s going to be okay, they’re going to look after her.” Kurt didn’t stop sobbing. He squeezed tighter.

* * *

 

It was hours later when the nurse came to Blaine and Kurt’s side, leading them into the pokémon ward and to Eevee’s bed. Kurt had stopped crying, but his eyes were red and raw and he hadn’t spoken a word to Blaine, only held his hand and leaned his head into his shoulder. 

She was breathing with the help of tubes into her snout but her eyes were closed in sleep. Beside the bed monitors ticked out her vital signs. All was calm, and although everything felt horribly unsafe, the tick in line with the beating of her heart was comforting somehow.

“She’s okay,” Blaine said, leaning into Kurt’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”

Kurt’s exhale was long and heavy. “I know. I think.” He bit into his lip, curling his legs up to hold himself close. He turned his head to face Blaine. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no worries. I would be here with the two of you any day.”

Kurt’s smile was sad, but it was there. “That means a lot to me. I would be here for you too, you know?”

Blaine wrapped his arm tight around Kurt’s shoulders. “Of course.” He kissed his temple lightly, running his fingers along Kurt’s arm. 

The sun rose through the window, but neither Kurt nor Blaine had slept. At eight, Santana rang, a flirty laugh in her voice but upon hearing the first words out of Kurt’s mouth she went quiet.

“Do you need us there?” she asked, but Kurt told her to go about her day. He’d call when they had more news.

Every hour the nurses came by bringing them cups of tea. Phanpy had fallen asleep at Blaine’s feet, but his eyes darted quickly behind his lids and he whimpered quietly in his dreams. 

It was midmorning when a blip came on Eevee’s monitor, a jump in her heart rate. Kurt stood up quickly, pressing the button for the nurse and she came running, coming to a halt at the door. Blaine couldn’t understand until he turned towards Eevee’s body and Kurt leaning over her. She was shimmering gently, a glow that brightened into hot white light. Kurt stepped back in alarm and Blaine caught him, arms tight around his waist. Her form shifted, grew, and when the light faded she was lying there, fur no longer light brown but luscious purple. Her eyes opened and the stone on her forehead winked.

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered quietly. “Kurt.”

“I know.”

“She-”

“I’d never-”

But Espeon was not having any of the attention taken from her. She rolled onto her feet on the bed and purred at them, the tubes against her snout pulling out. 

“Are you-?” Kurt asked, reaching a hand out to settle in her fur. “Are you alright?” She nuzzled her head against his hand and purred again. 

At Blaine’s feet, Phanpy snorted and it sounded triumphant.

* * *

 

Blaine wasn’t jealous, though at first he’d thought he might be. The nurse had let them go after checking over Espeon’s condition. She had healed nicely, and the evolution had certainly helped things. She was brighter, as bright as she had been dancing down that street the night before, before the accident.  

They sat on the wall at the edge of the hospital grounds, Kurt unwilling to walk home just yet and Blaine unwilling to see him go. 

“She’s beautiful,” Blaine said softly, brushing Espeon’s back. 

“Yeah,” Kurt replied, but he was watching Blaine’s face. “You know Phanpy will evolve eventually. He’s just taking his time. When he’s ready, you’ll know.”

“I know.” Blaine rubbed between Phanpy’s ears and down his trunk in a familiar motion. “I don’t mind, honestly. He’s loyal, and he tries to make me smile. That’s most important I think.”

“I used to hate that Eevee wouldn’t evolve, until it didn’t matter anymore. Now it’s just something special to cherish, not something that happened because I needed it to,” Kurt said. “Maybe they were plotting against us to teach us something. Do you think they have that kind of control over it?”

Blaine shrugged and leaned into Kurt’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anyway. How evolved our pokémon are shouldn’t matter. When I first saw you I didn’t see Eevee. I just saw you.”

It seemed to Blaine that the whole idea of evolution had become dulled to him. It didn’t matter, so long as you worked hard and thought about everything with an open mind and an open heart. Surely there were some horrible workers out there with the most highly evolved pokémon. It did nothing to show how good they were, or how pure their souls.

Pure souls felt like something much more important than high work positions. 

“Come back and have lunch with me,” he said and jumped off the wall, holding out his hand for Kurt. “You don’t have to go just yet, and I don’t want you to.” 

Kurt smiled and followed him, one hand against Espeon’s neck as they walked.


End file.
